One new; one old. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say - one piece of new (to me) graffiti, on a fairly old wall at the top of Great Clarendon Street, and one elderly (so far as I know) piece of Virginia Creeper, on what's almost certainly a very old wall fronting Trinity College. I was on my way to and from a radio interview with a Dublin station that I recorded at OUP. Quite how I kept the shredded remnants of my voice together enough for it I don't know (although a cup of hot herbal tea and endless Strepsils surely helped): for the rest of today I've been painfully, frustratingly laryngitic - my old-time response to using my voice after a cold. Really, I shouldn't speak for a week, but returning to a full week of meetings and teaching is going to scuttle that plan ...
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